Hey, you. You’re finally awake. Good morning. I’m up and in the cart on the couch. I didn’t feel Shawshank get out of bed or kiss me goodbye when he left for work- a feat we haven’t seen in this place for a year now, at the least. I have the house to myself for the morning. The sun is up, I have some caffeine-bean-water, and Podrick is being a shit.
I spent yesterday afternoon putting the clown makeup on. I’m getting better at it. Every time I do it, I’m a little quicker, the face paint is more solidly applied, the lines are straighter. Yesterday was a very trying application, as Pod was AWAKE!™ Shawshank was home when I started, and between the two of us we kept him out of trouble while I started the process that turns me into a Juggalo at a Pride parade.
When it was just me, however, Pod decided it was his sole mission to ruin everything. His fat ass takes up most of the shelf I set my makeup mirror on, and he kept trying to eat the mirror’s metal frame. When that didn’t elicit the reaction he wanted, he started attacking everything I had on the shelf. I threw him off the shelf. He returned to the shelf. Through an extraordinary amount of bullshit packed into 3ft2, he managed to dump a full cup of water into both my lap- and my makeup bag. I screamed and stomped around, wet and angry. I pulled everything out of the bag to dry, only to have another angry outburst because I couldn’t find my new black lipstick.
By the time I finished painting my face and setting up the bedroom, it was time to start fixing dinner. I’ve been pretty good about getting online for at least 3hr every time I logged in this week. Chaturbate ranks models based on how many people are in their rooms and how many viewers they’ve had come through. In theory, the longer I stay on, the closer to the top.
Shawshank is working four nights in a row next week, and I’d like to try pushing for longer shifts. With that in mind, I’m considering swapping lunch and dinner. I’ll make nuggets when Shawshank makes lunch, log in when he leaves for work, and pack “lunch” for the bedroom. Rather than needing to take an hour-long break to cook and eat my own dinner, plus feed the cats, I could just grab my plate out of the fridge and put more food down for them.
Oh well. That’s next week’s problem. For now, I’m going to put on some makeup and try to play some Skyrim before Shawshank comes home from work.
